


Little Moments

by Prosaic



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Crack, Crack Pairing, F/M, Gen, Post-Series, one shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:12:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 8,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prosaic/pseuds/Prosaic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Princess Tutu one shot collection. Each chapter features one of four parings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amissapanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amissapanda/gifts).



> These were written for LiveJournal user serika_san (amissapanda) as a birthday gift, and therefor feature her three favorite pairings (and one favorite crack pairing.) Completed in 2009.

Ebine tried to give the young girl an encouraging smile as she doused the stove top with water. It hit the metal pan, producing a loud hissing noise followed by a puff of steam.

“Now don’t get discouraged dear, that was only our first attempt. I’m sure that if we just keep trying you’ll get it right eventually.”

Next to her, Ahiru’s entire body seemed to droop. Surely this would only end like all her endeavors into a new skill: failure. 

But as she watched the charred remains of what would have been cookies smoke as they cooled, Fakir’s face--with that arrogant smirk he wore whenever she’d thoroughly embarrass herself--swam before her eyes.

She swelled with new determination. _Not this time._ She’d succeed, and he’d eat her cooking if she had to force it down his throat.

“Yes! Alright, lets try again.”


	2. Sunshine

He pulled opened the curtains, and was greeted with such blinding brilliance that he shut them again immediately. 

Autor grumbled and staggered over to his dresser. It was far too early in the day to be this sunny; what was wrong with this town? 

He pulled on his socks--left, then right--before taking a neat and pressed uniform from his closet. He wanted to head over to the library before his morning classes. 

As he walked out into the overly cheery sunshine, he was annoyed to find several students already sprawled on the lawn enjoying the weather. If there were so many out already, and this early, then undoubtedly more would join them. And the more there were, the more noise they would make. Autor preferred clouded days; people were less inclined to lounge outside laughing and chatting loudly at each other.

Trudging over to the library’s entrance in the most dignified manner he could muster, he passed by a certain troublesome duo from the ballet division sitting by a tree in deep conversation. (Or rather, the blonde rambled while her companion nodded every now and again.)

He paid them little attention until the brunette caught sight of him and called out, waving brightly with a smile to match. He’d faltered slightly before hurrying on, fighting the light blush rising in his cheeks. 

He tried to ignore the way the image of her smiling face stayed prominent in his mind even after they were well out of sight.


	3. Drawing

“Well?”

“Oh, Rue it’s so pretty! I’m sure Mytho’s going to love it.”

Rue preened at the compliment. 

“Well Ahiru of course he’ll love it. I’m the one who drew it after all.” She peered over at her companion’s canvas. “And yours is…” She faltered. _What…_ is _that supposed to be?_

Ahiru had covered the fabric of her canvas with what looked like a mass of black, blue and purple swirls and scribbles.

“It’s the fountain in the courtyard!” She exclaimed excitedly, pointing to her model a few feet from where they sat.

“Oh…W-well of course, I knew that. _Anyone_ who looked at it would be able to see that…” She deadpanned watching the red-head smear charcoal on her “fountain” in no particular pattern, making her fingers so horribly smudged that when she whipped her face with the back of her hand she left a huge flat streak across her cheek.

“How’s it coming along?” 

Mytho had come up on her other side and was looking with gentle curiosity at the drawing in her lap. Rue flashed him a loving smile before holding up the canvas for him to get a better view. 

“See for yourself.” 

His golden eyes inspected her work--a soft, clean drawing of the courtyard of the academy--before returning her smile. 

“It’s lovely.” Her smile widened and she pulled him down to kiss him on the cheek.

The prince then switched his attention to the younger girl still working furiously on Rue’s left. 

“And how’s your picture Ahiru?”

Her head snapped up at his voice, her mouth pulling into a wide grin before she held up her work, which was even messier and less coherent then before. 

Rue twitched. “It’s ah, well--…”

“Ah, the swan fountain.” Mytho matched Ahiru’s grin, “It’s very realistic, isn’t it?”

Rue stared at him is in unmasked astonishment.


	4. Headphones

The flock of girls had scattered at the first rose petal that drifted into view. 

By the time Femio had made his grand entrance all that was left was a bag of spilled sunflower seeds abandoned in their hurry to flee. _Strange…maybe they were late for class? Or perhaps…. No--perhaps his beauty was so overbearing to them that they fled before even seeing him? Gods, would his sins never be atoned for?_

He twisted at this revelation, but before he could summon Moutan and the bulls, he’d caught sight of another young maiden nearby with a book settled in her lap. Quickly composing himself, he swept to her side and pulled a rose from one of the inner pockets of his jacket. 

“For you, my sweet little flower.”

She did not immediately respond, only moving to turn the page.

He bowed. “There is no reason to be shy my dear. Someone as lovely as you deserves my utmost attention.” 

She smiled softly, which encouraged him. 

“Tell me, are you so quiet from the shock that after admiring me for so long, my approaching you has left you speechless?” _Was she blushing? Or was he imagining it?_

“There is hardly any need for you to feel this way. Surely you are a flower that should not conceal herself to the shade but stretch toward to sun!”

She waved her hand, flicking her curling blond hair and the petals of the rose still in his outstretched hand. He blinked down at the gift. 

“Could it be…that you are not fond of roses? Would you prefer I present you with another flower?” 

She bobbed her head slightly. 

“Very well! If it pleases you, Mon Cher, then I shall find such a blossom. One even more deserving of your beauty!” He turned on his heal, “Do not miss me to terribly, I shant be long!” and tore off in hunt of the school’s flower garden.

As the breeze of his speedy departure ruffled her hair, Lillie paused from her re-read of _Tristan and Isolde_ to pull the cotton she been using to block outside noise as she’d read from her ears. She blinked at the dust that had been kicked up in Femio’s wake. 

“My, is it…windy today?” She looked around before spotting the abandoned rose laying next to her. 

“…Eh?” She picked it up, examining it. 

“How did this get here?”


	5. Hair-Tie

Ahiru frowned. “Hey, Fakir.”

“Hm?” He was busy scribbling on the parchment lying in a messy pile before him.

“Why don’t you cut your hair?”

He blinked, concentration broken. 

“What?”

“Why do you keep you’re hair so long? I mean all the other boys in class keep theirs pretty short. Well, except for…” She trailed off grimacing in the direction of an overenthusiastic Femio who was busy chasing after the newly human Anteaterina. 

He glanced up from his writing momentarily to look at her, taking in her own long unbound hair. _As if she was one to talk._

“I don’t know. I’ve just never seen a reason to cut it.” He turned back to the paper. “What, does it bother you or something?”

“No!” Fakir raised an eyebrow at her outburst. Ahiru blushed, “No I…I was just curious.” 

There was silence for a moment. 

“So…have you ever thought of braiding it?”

He frowned. “No.”

“…Then can-…” 

“ _No._ ”

“Aw, come on. It might look really cu-err, _handsome._ ”

“You’re not touching my hair. If you want to play stylist then go find someone else to be your doll.”

She folded her arms across her chest, pouting.

“...Can I just tie a black ribbon--…” 

He sighed.


	6. Pain Reliever

“Ouc-!”

“Oh just stay still, it’ll be over in a minute.” 

Autor glared as Pique set down the cloth she’d used to clean the cut on his shin. 

“That’s terribly easy for you to say, you’re not the one who’s injured!”

“You call that an injury? It’s nothing but a little scrape. Jeez I didn’t know you were so _delicate._ ”

His face flamed with an angry blush. 

“I’m not delicate!” He bit his lip as she applied pressure to the wound again. “You’re just too rough! Perhaps it’s a good thing you’re training to be a dancer. You’d never make it as a nurse with such a-Ow!”

“Keep your leg still or I wont get the bandage on properly.” She unrolled the gauze and quickly wrapped it around the piece of cotton she’d placed on the cut, securing it with a firm tug.

“There now. You’ll live.” She grinned at his scowling face. “Or, do you want me to kiss it to make it heal faster?”

He jerked away from her, his face bright red. 

“What-? No--What kind of thing-? You-!”


	7. Red

Rue went silent.

Mytho smiled, trying to hide the anxious twitch of his fingers. 

“Do you like it?”

She blinked, shaking herself a little. 

“Y-yes! I love it! How could I not?”

Her prince beamed. 

“I’m glade! Ahiru helped me pick it out, because I wasn’t sure what kind of thing you would have preferred. Isn’t that strange? I’ve known you for so many years and I didn’t know--well I suppose I’m just not very good at finding things girls like in general, and Fakir wasn’t much help when I asked…”

Rue wasn’t listening. She was still staring blankly at the box’s contents. 

It was a hat. No. It was a _huge_ hat. It was a huge hat with a matching ribbon wrapped around the crown, tied in an unnecessarily large bow in the back. On its front was a gigantic flower--complete with leaves and strings of beads that hung in loose loops around the petals--with two long feathers stuck behind it, and a veil that fell halfway down the left side of the rim. The remaining ends of the ribbon were pulled down low over the rim to be tied under the wearer’s chin, to keep the thing in place. 

It was huge. It was gaudy. And the entire thing, from the heavy decorations to the base, was _bright red._

Suddenly, the hat rose of its own accord from the box. Mytho was holding it, placing it on her head and tying the loose pieces of ribbon into a neat bow. It was too large for her, making her head dip slightly from the weight. She grasped the rim with both hands to keep it from falling off.

Mytho gazed at her, his eyes swimming with warmth. 

“It’s looks beautiful on you.”

Rue blushed before her eyes brightened and her mouth broke into a smile.

“I’ll wear it everyday!”


	8. White

Lillie never baked at home, but she did enjoy toiling about in the school's   
kitchen making simple treats for her friends should they need something to comfort them after having their hearts torn to shreds from some uncaring boy or unfortunate circumstance. 

She hummed lightly to herself, measuring out the necessary amount of sugar and glancing back at the cookbook propped open on the counter beside her. 

_2 eggs  
2/3 cup cocoa powder  
1 tsp. of vanilla  
2 cups of flower_

She smiled, pouring everything into a large mixing bowl stirring with vigor. 

She turned, opening a cupboard and stretching for the flower sack sitting on the second shelf. It was so high up she had to balance on her toes and rely on her ballet training to stay steady.

She’d just grasped the edge of the sack and was easing it down when-

“Ah! Mon amore, what is it that you are-?”

_Fwomp!_

When the cloud of residue cleared, Lillie stared blankly at the intruder who was now--like her--covered from head to toe in the spilled flower.

Femio blinked in surprise, then coughed, dispelling a small puff of white.


	9. Nostalgia

Fakir scoffed. 

“I don’t _hate_ you.”

“Well, when did you stop then?”

“…Stop what?”

“Hating me! If you don’t hate me, then when did you stop? I know you used to.”

He frowned. “I never hated you. I just…” _Was annoyed by you. Was bothered by you. Thought you were a nuisance. Was suspicious of you. Was surprised by you. Was tolerant of you. Was angry with you. Worried about you. Wanted to protect you. Was amused by you. Liked you. Trusted you. Needed you. Lo--…_

“Just what?”

“Huh?”

“Just what? You stopped talking.” 

“Just nothing. I don’t hate you. That’s it.”

“That can’t be just it. You were going to say--…”

“Do you want me to help you with practice or not? You can’t dance if you’re talking.”


	10. Hero

“It’s because he cared about love! It didn’t matter who she was or if his parents approved. He knew that he loved her and wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way!”

“Hmpf, true. And where exactly did that get him? _Dead._ ”

Pique glowered. 

“Ugh, you don’t understand anything about love.”

He flinched at that, but tried to cover it up by adjusting his glasses. _He had tried once. Tried to understand love, tried to express love, but…_

“And what makes you an expert?”

“I _read._ All about it. All the time.”

“Reading about something and experiencing it are two totally different things.”

“Hah, that’s never stopped you from lecturing people.”

Now he glared. 

“And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well, aren’t you always pestering your “cousin” about his writing? But I’ve never seen you write anything of your own besides class assignments.” 

He was angrier, “That’s different-!”

“It’s _not._ What is it you’re always saying? That creative writing is about emotions?” She shook her head, “You’re good with technical stuff Autor, but you’re not very good when it comes to things that involve _feelings._ Not like Fakir, now _he_ \--…”

He snapped his book shut so fast the noise echoed out around the room. 

“And what’s so wonderful about him? Fine, he’s a decent writer, alright, he’s the pride and joy of the whole ballet division--he’s got his own ridiculous little _fan club_ for--…”

The blank look she was giving him was disturbing; one that an unyielding mother might give to a child who was throwing a tantrum, knowing that the act was a bluff.

“What, are you jealous?”

“No I am not _jealous_ \--!”


	11. Gravity

“Ah!”

Rue reached out just in time, grasping the back of his shirt and yanking him away from the ledge. 

“Mytho, are you alright?”

He blinked. 

“Y-yes. I'm fine. Thank you.”

She sighed, “What were you doing?”

Mytho turned back to the ledge. 

“I thought I saw something glittering, like a coin, at the bottom the creek and I was trying to get a better look…”

Rue’s brow creased. 

“You saw something shiny…and you were so distracted you nearly fell in?”

“Well, it was really bright, I mean it could have been anything couldn’t it? It might have been a piece of gold or jewelry that dropped out of someone’s pocket or fell off of them as they walked by that was really important to them, and now they’re looking for it--…”

“Or it could just have been a fish swimming in the creek whose scales caught in the sunlight.”

“…Oh. I suppose that’s true.”

She sighed turning to walk back down the road. 

“Honestly, if this keeps up I’ll need to keep you on a leash from now--…”

_Splash!_

“Mytho!”


	12. Beginning

“Now it’s very important to keep a firm grip on your partner’s waist so you don’t end up dropping them or throwing them off balance. Please begin in second position, girls you in fifth, and then take her hand--…”

_Oh no, oh no no no no No! This can’t be happening, it’s impossible, I wont do it!_

Lillie glanced desperately around the room for a way to make a speedy exit that would go unnoticed. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at _all_. Things like this didn’t happen to her. How was it possible that there were an odd number of boys to girls in the class, yet even then she was the one to end up with--?

“Come my young blossom, why do you tremble so? Undoubtedly you are intimidated by my skill, but I assure you that our dance will be nothing short of spectacular, the envy of your classmates!”

His hand nearing her own only made her shake more violently. 

How had it turned out like this? She was sure she’d fixed it so she would have been paired with Pique or Ahiru, leaving the remaining girl to be stuck with Femio as she sat back and watched the fun. Yet somehow it had gone all wrong, so utterly terribly _wonderfully_ wrong~ 

But it was hardly as wonderful when it was happening to her!

“Ms. Lillie? Are you paying attention? You have yet to take your partner’s hand.”

Femio was suddenly nose-to-nose with her. 

“Come Cheri, I don’t bite.” He reached out, his fingertips brushing her cheek.

She felt her face twist into a look of horror, and then she was falling into darkness.

“Ah! My flower! Are you ill? Or, could it be, my beauty has overwhelmed you? Oh, the accursed face of mine! Please, lay punishment upon--!”

“Mr. Femio _please!_ What has happened? Ms. Lillie? Lillie are you all right?”

Lillie rasped, before falling unconscious, “ _So…terrible._ ”


	13. Thunderstorm

_Crack!_

Ahiru squealed before diving back under the covers. The vibrations form the clap of thunder made the glass of her windows vibrate.

Slowly, she peaked out from under her blanket, staring at the rattling windowpanes. By now the rain was starting to speckle the glass.

Moving in a fashion not unlike a caterpillar, Ahiru crawled across her mattress and eased down the ladder leading up from the floor to her bed. She flinched as another wave of thunder rolled overhead. It would have been better if had been raining harder; at least the sound of the water would have helped her relax.

She’d made it safely to the floor and crept over to the window, securing the latch to ensure that the wind wouldn’t swing the windows open later in the night. 

As she worked, she caught a glimpse of a light shining through the darkness. Peering through the glass to get a better look, she realized the light was coming from Fakir’s window; he had left a lamp lit in his room. 

Ahiru blinked in surprise. It wasn’t like Fakir to forget to blow out the lamps before going to bed. Was he still up?

Cautiously, she opened her window to get a better look.

Just as she leaned out into the windy night air, she saw his curtains move. There, in the dim light given off by the lamp’s glow, was Fakir. 

She could barely make him out in the dark. Before she’d had to lean out any further, her classmate had opened his own window. Now she could see him much clearer, dressed in his nightclothes with a blanket hanging around his hips. He looked around before catching sight of her. For a moment their eyes locked. Then she raised her arm in an awkward wave. He paused, and then waved back. 

Ahiru smiled settling herself against the windowpane, warm with the knowledge that she was not the only one kept awake by the storm.

Then, as if the thought summoned it, another loud crack of thunder sent her toppling to the floor.


	14. Believe

Autor frowned. 

“You have no idea dangerous wishing can be.”

Pique snorted. 

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the kind of person who believes in superstition.”

“Hmpf. And what is that saying about you?”

“I never pretended I didn’t.” She smiled. “You’re just the type who would say something like, ‘Who would wish on a star? You’re wasting your time!’ or something. Not start lecturing on how dangerous it is.”

“Spoken like someone who doesn’t have a single idea about the repercussions of wishing.”

“Well of course there are repercussions. That’s part of what makes wishing so exciting, it could all go wrong at any moment! Ooo how tragic if you were to wish for, say, your true love who is down with an illness to get well, only to have the illness transferred to yourself, and then dying from it!”

Pique frowned at the giddy blonde on her left. 

“It doesn’t all have to go wrong, you just have to word your wish really carefully.” She glanced back up at the darkening sky. 

“Oh! Look, there it is. The first star of the night.” She grasped the arms of her two companions excitedly. “Common, you need to hurry and make a wish before more show up.”

Autor looked to the faces of the two girls, eyes clenched shut in concentration. The place where Pique’s hand clutched his sleeve felt oddly warm. 

He sighed, gazing at the speck of white shinning through the vast dark blue plane overhead.

_…Star light, star bright…_


	15. Sexy

As he watched Rue mingle with the other guests, he felt strange. 

His heart was beating a little faster then it normally would, his face felt warm when he put a hand to his cheek. Was he too hot? He unbuttoned the top most buttons on his shirt, hoping it would help cool him down.

She really did look lovely in her evening dress; although something about the way it was cut, holding tight to her curves, reminded him vaguely of the dress she would don as Kraehe…

There it was, that warming sensation in his cheeks. Perhaps he had put on too many layers thinking that the weather would be cooler. He fidgeted, running his finger up and down his tall glass of cranberry juice. 

“Mytho?” She was right in front of him, looking concerned. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little flushed…” 

She leaned in close. He could see the red color she’d dusted on her cheek and the dab of dark red rouge painted on her lips. Her breath was warm and it smelled sweet from the strawberries she’d been eating a moment ago--he could see there was a small dab of juice at the corner of her lip she’d missed when she’d wiped her face. 

She was leaning closer, her hand rising to cup the side of his face. His eyes traveled down the smooth curve of her jaw and landed on her thin collar bone--a few stray locks of her feathered hair curled against it--before following the ivory skin down into the pale slope of her chest peaking out from the collar of her dress--…

He felt hot again.

“-ytho?”

He jumped, tugged out of his pondering by the sound of her voice. He met her worried eyes. 

“I’m fine Rue.” He gave a shaky smile “I’m just feeling a little too warm. I should probably take off my jacket.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded and turned back into the small crowd. 

His eyes trailed down to her swaying hips as he watched her leave. He sighed softly, felling oddly anxious.

Next to him, Fakir scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Idiot.”


	16. Armor

“Um…”

Pique blinked at her blonde friend emerging from the room--covered head to toe in a suit of armor far too large for her. 

“What…what exactly…”

“Shhh…” The sound echoed around the armor’s interior. “I’m not here.”

“…O…kay.”

With great effort, Lillie backed up against the opposite wall, standing as still and straight as she could. 

A moment later a pair of footsteps clacked down the hallway, and Femio came sprinting into view. He paused, panting before Pique. 

“P-pardon me…mademoiselle…you…you didn’t happen to see…a lovely blonde girl-…”

Pique shook her head.

“Ah…I see…well…thank you just the same…I shall…continue to search elsewhere…” And he took off down the hallway once more.

Pique watched him go. 

“…So I’ll come get you for lunch?”

“It would be kind.”


	17. Flexability

She pushed herself from the wall as Fakir exited the changing room.

“So…you’re spending lunch at Charon’s?”

“Yeah, he needs me to help with some of the orders that have been piling up.”  
He turned to walk down the hallway, Ahiru shuffling after him. 

“And then you’re coming back?”

“For Introduction to Creative Writing. Then I need to go to the dance building for some extra practice with the advanced class.” 

“Oh…your schedule’s pretty full then.”

He glanced at her. 

“Mm…”

“Well…alright! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” She flashed him a smile before hurrying off around a corner. 

He watched her go, frowning. There’d been something oddly artificial about her cheery attitude. 

...........

Later, Ahiru sat with her knees pulled up to her chin in Freya’s flower garden, watching the bees float from blossom to blossom. She jumped when she felt someone approach her. 

Fakir sat on the empty space next to her, looking vaguely at the daffodils growing a few feet ahead of them. Ahiru stared in surprise.

“I thought you were-?”

“I asked Charon if it was okay for me to come over later tonight instead.”

“…Oh.”

From where her face was buried in her knees, Ahiru smiled.


	18. Musical

“Hey, play something from _Coppelia_.”

He frowned, fingers pausing on the piano keys. 

“Hmpf. Something that frivolous would be a waste of my talents.” He lifted a hand and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Besides, I don’t take requests.”

Pique pouted, chewing on her lower lip. 

“You don’t need to be so snooty. I thought the point of learning an instrument was that you could _play_ it for people.”

“Well then, clearly you-…”

“Oh forget it. If you’re not going to play anything I’ll just leave.” She turned on her heel, heading for the door. 

He started and nearly sent his sheet music flying with the speed he stood up. 

“No, wait!” She paused and looked back at him, blinking.

“…I-um-…” He stuttered and tried to collect himself. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. After all, if you revere something like _Coppelia_ then you must be due for some _real_ music.”

For a moment he thought she might leave: staring blankly at him with her tongue poking between her lips. Then she turned and walked back, leaning against the piano.

He gave a little self-satisfied smirk and sat back on the bench. 

“Well then, I could always start with something by Felix Bartholdy Mendelssohn, or perhaps a piece from Michail Ippolitov-Ivanov--you know his music is very renowned in-…”

“Can’t you play one from someone I’ve actually _heard_ of?”


	19. Midnight

Rue stumbled slightly, nearly knocking over a small table sitting in front of the couch. She swayed, trying to regain her balance on unsteady heels.

Mytho smiled, reaching out to gently grasp her arm before her wobbly movements caused her to pitch forward onto the floor. 

She stilled, and then looked up into his face, her cheeks slightly flushed from something other then embarrassment. She grinned, leaning closer and falling against him with her arms loosely wrapped around his neck, her head on his shoulder. 

“Heeeeey, _you_.” She reached up to tap the end of his nose.

Mytho’s arms slid lower to get a better hold on her waist. 

“Rue, it’s fairly late. Everyone’s gone home.” 

She rocked back and forth, still watching him with glazed eyes and an uncharacteristically goofy smile. 

“Perhaps, we should turn in for the night?”

Rue responded with a giggle. 

“Mm- _kay_.”

Seconds past and she had yet to move. Mytho blinked. 

“Rue?” 

He looked down to see that her eyes had closed, her body slowly going lax in his grip. He smiled and kissed her forehead, before shifting his weight so he could bend and hook his arms under her legs. 

As he carried her up the stairs, he heard footsteps and looked up to see Fakir emerging from the bathroom. His friend paused and watched their slow procession.

“Humph, can’t quite hold her wine can she?” 

Mytho flashed him a blithe smile before turning to the door to his guest room. He fumbled, trying to open the door without waking the sleeping girl in his arms. 

Fakir stared. 

“…Hey, Mytho.”

The prince shifted Rue closer to his chest, his hand grasping for the doorknob.

“Hm?”

“Are you… taking her into _your_ room?”

His fingers met with cool metal. He gave the knob a twist, producing a satisfying click.

“Yes,” He turned his head to look at Fakir, "Why?”

“You’re taking a drunk, semi-unconscious girl into _your_ room in the middle of the night?”

“…Yes?” Mytho blinked, perplexed. 

Fakir stared a moment longer, then looked exasperated and turned down the hall. 

“…Never mind.”


	20. Virtue

“Well then, you must prove it to me!”

“…Eh?”

“If you really love me then you have to show me the extent of your love. It’s a gentlemen’s duty to show the girl that he admires that she is the only one in the world he will ever love, even if he can never be with her or fails miserably in the process. Didn’t you know that?”

Femio blinked several times before collecting himself. 

“But of course, I’m well aware with the proper behaviors of an gentleman. I am after all destined to be a prince who loves everyone and is loved _by_ everyone.” He waved his hand for emphasis. It’s only that, somehow, he feels as though he’s heard similar words before…

“Well then, how are you going to prove the degree of your feelings?” She took great delight in watching him strain for an answer. Evidently he’d never gotten so far with anyone as to consider what he would have to do to himself. He looked down to the rose in his outstretched hand hoping it might offer some sort of clue. 

“I…what would my lady have me do?” 

Lillie smiled. _Oh, this would provide some entertainment._

“Well naturally you must perform an act that is intensely romantic, preferably something that puts your life at risk!”

“M-my—"

“Now, what shall we have you do? Pick me a flower from a dangerously high cliff? Go on a perilous journey to find me a rare jewel, fighting hordes of murderous thieves and perhaps a ferocious dragon along the way? Ah,” She clapped her hands in sudden inspiration, “I have it!” Before he could protest she snatched his arm and sped towards to crowded courtyard. They skidded to a stop outside of the drama building. 

Lillie grabbed her panting companion’s head and twisted it violently to face the building’s entrance. He blinked blearily. 

“Yesterday, Fakir was quite cruel in not returning my morning greeting and openly referring to me as a ‘inane pest’.” She pointed and his eyes traced her arm to the aforementioned dancer who was in conversation with his bespectacled cousin on the staircase leading to the building’s entryway. 

“…He said-?”

“ _So_ ,” She was suddenly behind him, “go, and fight for my honor!” And she gave him an aggressive shove that miraculously propelled him thirteen feet and straight into the dark boy’s pianist companion, knocking them both into a clump of bushes.

_Ah, perhaps her aim had been a bit off._


	21. Memories

"What you _are_ doing is embarrassing yourself.”

Ahiru turned her head to scowl at him from over her shoulder. 

“How?”

“You’ve been following him ever since they arrived. Everyone’s noticed.” He shifted to fold his arms across his chest. “Why _Rue_ hasn’t called you on it yet I can’t imagine.”

She flushed. 

“I-I’m just happy to see him happy. That’s not weird, is it? And besides, I wanted to see what his personality was like now that he has his heart back. It’s not like I’m-…”

“ _Stalking_ is the word.”

At that she whipped around to face him. 

“I am not _stalking_ him!”

“What do you call tailing his every move from behind corners and tree trunks then?”

“I-I’m just looking out for him!” Her own hands were clenched on her hips, her thin shoulders squared at sharp angles.

“Humph. I’m looking out for him. That should be enough.” Fakir blinked, faltering. He had meant to say _Rue_ was looking out for him. Why had he-? 

At the thought there was a sudden nagging pressure between his eyes. He frowned, reaching up to rub the spot.

“You can’t watch him all the time! Lots of things happened to him before when you weren’t around, and he was lucky I was there to help him!”

Something in her words made an uncomfortable little tingle run up his spine. It wasn’t so much what she was saying, but the _way_ she was saying it, the tone she was using. It felt eerily familiar, as if they’d had this conversation before. But Mytho had only been back to visit for a few days, and he could have sworn they hadn’t discussed their past with him before now, so why-?

“As if I would leave him alone long enough for anything life threatening to occur.” He hissed even as the pressure steadily increased.

Ahiru looked dubious. 

“He fell out of a window once and I had to catch him! Though I guess it’s true you _did_ follow him around more then I did! You practically put him on a leash! And you say that _I’m_ the one who’s stalking him.”

And there it was again, that knowing shudder of déjà vu. She must have said these things before but why couldn’t he grasp when? Her cracking voice faded from him as he tried to remember, the earlier pressure spreading to his ears and muffling sound. He grimaced, trying to grasp wisps of images that flew before his eyes. 

_A huge room made of blinding white marble softened by candlelight with winding pillars supporting a high ceiling._

_Shadows moving in and out of sight, swooping and dipping together in a languid waltz._

_And she was in front of him, her head covered by the hood of a short dark cloak that only reached her waist--giving way the long white skirt of her dress that kissed her ankles. He had to make sure to keep her behind the pillar so no one would see them, especially not his prince. She was wearing the same cross expression, hands resting with self-righteous authority on her waist--the foolish girl wasn’t supposed to be here--and they were…arguing about…_

“…Fakir?” She blinked as he furiously massaged his temples. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt or something?”

“No, I-…” He made a frustrated sound in the back of his throat and opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed. “Don’t you feel like…haven’t we said all of this before?”

She frowned. 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I mean here, this, this conversation! We’ve said all of this before. Except…we were somewhere else, and it was dark…and you were--I was--…”

“…Fakir…is all of that writing hurting your brain somehow?”


	22. Picnic

Autor’s grip loosened on his pile of books, causing them to drop to the ground with a clatter.

“Wh-what-? Oh no no no no _no_!” He waved his hands in frantic rage. “ _What have you done?_ ”

“Isn’t it splendid?” Lillie flashed a cheery smile before turning to pour a cup of tea. “It’s far too windy to do this outside, and Pique was _so_ worried about how we would persuade you to join--weren’t you dear?--, And then it just came to me--"

“There’s food on my piano!”

“Well, did you expect us to eat on the _floor_? It’s filthy--"

“ _There’s FOOD on my piano_!”

She stirred her tea undaunted and took a sip. 

“Yes yes, that much is apparent.”

His hands clenched and unclenched, unmasked fury on his face. His piano, his _favorite, hand-polished piano_ , was covered with a checkered picnic cloth and wicker basket, along with several plates of food that he was positive would feed _far_ more then five people. 

“Where did you even get all of this?”

“Why we made it of course!” Lillie began to cut a large piece of what looked to be lemon cake and set it on a plate. “Would you care for some--…”

Autor could have thrown one of his books at her had they not fallen from his hands earlier. Instead he raised a hand to his face and tried to regain his composure. He then rounded on the room’s other occupants. 

“And what are _you_ doing here?”

Fakir stared lazily from where he was leaning against the wall, plate of bread and crackers in hand. Ahiru fidgeted next to him, smiling nervously at the pianist.

“We were invited.”

“You were--?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, glaring at Fakir. “I would have thought you would have at least had the sense to stop her.”

The knight blinked and took a bite of his cracker. 

“She’d already set it up when we arrived.” 

_Useless jerk._

He turned to find Pique before him, holding a plate of snack cakes and smiling despite looking slightly fearful of what he might do to her. 

“Um, heh, sorry about this. You know Lillie, she can be--…Ahem, well anyway, do you want something to eat?” She held out the plate tentatively. “I made them…before I knew what she was planning.”

Autor paused, looking from the cakes to her anxious expression. He slowly reached out, taking one and biting off a piece, chewing thoughtfully. 

He huffed. “I suppose what’s done is done.” He dropped the remainder of the cake back onto the plate. “Go get me some tea. That cake was too dry.”


	23. Ceremony

He smiled. 

“I vow to love, honor, and obey, until death do us part.”

Rue smiled back, a blush dusting her cheeks as he rested the wreath of flowers on her curled locks. She reached up to touch the delicate flowers, causing small petals to fall into her hair. 

Mytho reached out to pull her into a one armed hug, gazing out over the lake as the sun set on their kingdom. 

She relaxed into his embrace, sighing in contentment. 

“I can’t wait.” 

“Mm.” Someday, they would be joined in blessed matrimony. A day that wasn’t coming soon enough. 

As they sat in comfortable silence, his thoughts drifted over to something he’d heard Fakir and Autor discussing. 

“Rue?”

“Yes?”

“What happens after we wed?”

She leaned to kiss him on the jaw. 

“I will become a real princess, and we will be happy, and together forever.”

A small crease formed between his brows. 

“No, I mean, on the wedding day. What happens after the ceremony?”

She moved to sit straight, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“I heard Fakir and Autor talking about my ‘husbandly duty’ and your ‘maidenly honor’ and the wedding night." He turned to look at her. 

“Is there…something that’s supposed to happen? Something I’m supposed to do for you?” He frowned “It doesn’t sound terribly good, if it involves your honor. Am I supposed to protect you from something?”

His princess’s face twisted and flushed beat red at his words. His eyes widened and he placed his hands on her shoulders. 

“Rue? What is it? Is it truly something horrible? Are you going to be harmed in some way? Whatever it is I swear I’ll protect you!”

She grew impossibly redder and started to sputter something about crass boys and unnecessary questions.


	24. Bet

“And if I succeed in getting Monsieur Fakir to smile for me within the agreed upon time?”

“Then I will most _graciously_ attend the festival with you.”

He smiled, bowing low. 

“Then it shall be done!” He straightened, taking her hand. “Do not miss me to terribly Mademoiselle, I shall return victorious!” And with that he was gone. 

Pique crept out from her hiding place behind a bush to stand next to her friend. 

“That was almost too cruel even for _you_. You know there’s no way he’ll ever get Fakir to smile. Only Ahiru can do that.” She mumbled, “He’ll probably be killed in the process.”

“Oh don’t be so negative! I’m sure he’ll try his best after all.”

Pique deadpanned with a suspicious look towards the blonde.

“You expect him to fail.”

“Oh yes, but spectacularly so!”


	25. Dignity

She jerked the reins upward before they hit the top of the town’s outer wall, quivering with excitement.

“Ah! That was close!” She giggled. “Isn’t this exciting Fakir?”

Her companion had settled as far as he could back into the carriage’s seat, eyes wide and hands clutching tightly to the edge. 

“N-no damnit! You’re steering like a maniac!”

Her cheeks puffed in irritation. 

“I am _not_ -!”

“Look out!”

She turned just in time to see them heading straight for a particularly large tree and yelped, pulling the flying swan-drawn carriage away, hitting several branches in the process. 

Fakir sighed, glaring at her. 

“You’ve had your fun, can you just set this thing down now?”

She moved them into a more stable position above the forest’s treetops before replying. 

“No. Mytho gave me a whole hour to fly this, and there’s still a lot of things I want us see!”

“You’re a _bird_ moron, you can already fly on your own.”

“Well, yeah, but I want you to see what it’s like.” She frowned. “You’re…not having fun?”

“ _Not_ particularly. I’d feel better if you’d just land, or give me the reins.” He cautiously lifted his hand and held it expectantly, but Ahiru ignored it. 

“Mytho said _I_ could fly it, so I’m flying it.” She had a determined glint in her eye as she flew them a little higher towards the lake. She looked down, laughing at the distant bewildered calls she received from her duck friends on the water’s surface below. She turned back to Fakir only to find him looking rather pale. 

“Fakir, are you feeling okay?”

He straightened a little, scowling. 

“Fine.”

“Really? Because you look kind of sick…” She frowned, leaning closer. “You’re not, afraid of heights are you?” 

“No. Have you ever heard of a ballet dancer who was?” He grumbled and didn’t meet her eye. 

“Well, I guess not. But still, you look sick.” She reached out to feel his forehead.

“Idiot! Hold onto the reins!” He cried, his voice cracking. They’d started dipping downward, the lake’s surface rushing up to meet them. Both of them reached out to give the rope a firm yank to pull the swans straight. Once they were heading upwards again he snatched the reins from her with a grumble and steered them back towards town.

Ahiru didn’t object, staring at his face as they made a notably smoother flight towards the church. 

“Hey Fakir, your voice got all squeaky for a second.”

He blanched. 

“It did _not_ -!”


	26. Untouched

It wasn’t until they’d reached the top of the tower that she spoke. 

“Oh, it’s _beautiful_!”

Autor scoffed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. _Such a girlish way to react._ But part of him did feel a little smug. He knew she’d like it if he brought her up here to see the sunrise. 

“This tower faces precisely east, without any trees blocking the view of the sun coming over the hills.” 

She leaned out of the window as far as she could, smiling broadly. 

“It’s so perfect it’s like a painting.”

He watched her with vague curiosity. _She wouldn’t fall would she? Is this what Fakir had to worry about every time he was with Ahiru?_ Autor started to ponder what it would be like having to spend every waking moment ensuring a person didn’t trip or crash into something, and was gifted with one of those rare moments that he was actually glade he wasn’t Fakir. 

“Heh, you know, this would be a really good place to bring someone you love to confess to them.”

Autor was ripped from his thoughts, blushing for no evident reason.


	27. Smile

Rue peered down into the infant’s tiny face, gently running a finger down his cheek. 

“He’s beautiful.”

“Heh, that’s what everyone’s been telling me.”

She met the older woman’s eyes. 

“No truly, Raetzel. He’s absolutely perfect!”

She laughed again. 

“You think that now, but once you have one of your own I’m sure they’ll be the one who’s perfect in your eyes.”

Rue started a little. 

“One of…my own?” She looked down at the little bundle of pink softness in her arms that greeted her with a huge, toothless smile. 

_My own? My own child? Mine and…_

Suddenly she was lost in a fantasy of flawless little white haired children with kind golden eyes, giggling merrily and running through endless fields of flowers, accompanied by a strapping young man who matched their appearance. 

_They’d come running up to her excitedly--arms outstretched--each holding a perfectly woven wreath of flowers as their father smiled down at her. “Mother! Mother! Look what we made you!”_

“Oh they’re beautiful, just beautiful. Mother is so proud--…” Rue smiled blissfully at nothing.

Raetzel blinked at the giggling young woman before her. 

“Um, Rue-?”


	28. Bleeding

“Really, I don’t believe I need any help, so--…”

Before she could finish cutting the flower he’d reached out and snatched her wrist, bringing her hand close to his face. He looked horrified. 

“Why, mon amore, you’re bleeding!”

“Eh?" She stared down at her hand in confusion. There on her index finger was the tiniest pinprick of blood. “Oh,I-…”

“Do not panic! Here, you mustn’t overexert yourself! Rest!” He forced her down onto a nearby bench. “Now, my docile flower, I shall fetch you aid!” He clapped his hands. “Moutan!” and his servant was suddenly by his side. “The medical supplies!” 

“Yes, Master Femio!”

Lillie frowned, looking down once more at her “injury”. She didn’t particularly like where this was going. Before she could attempt an escape he’d returned holding a white box. Femio quickly placed his hands on her shoulders and seated her once more before opening the box in a business like manner. 

He turned back to her, grinning. 

“Do not despair fair one! I shall see to it personally that you are healed!” With that he started unravel a huge ball of gauze. 

Lillie gulped.


	29. Passion

There was a collective sigh from the beginner’s class as Fakir lept effortlessly into the air. 

“Isn’t he just the most wonderful dancer?” 

“He’s so attractive!”

“If only I could dance with Fakir!”

They giggled and cooed in admiration. 

Ahiru frowned. _Of course Fakir was a great dancer, he was in the advanced class wasn’t he?_

She flinched a little as her classmates emitted high-pitched squeals. She had known Fakir was popular before--enough to have a fan club--but she wondered how she hadn’t noticed just _how_ popular he was before now. At first she’d paid little attention to the other girl’s esteem of her friend, but lately it had been getting on her nerves. 

_Sure Fakir was a good dancer, and he was all dark and mysterious--if you like that sort of thing--and he was extremely talented and was good at practically everything he did, and was undeniably attractive-…_

She knitted her brow. _Attractive._ That word had slipped in somewhere.

Had she…really never considered just how handsome he was? Even as they danced together? She tried to think back to all of the practices she’d danced with him. All she’d ever concentrated on before was the difficult steps they were performing and keeping up with his strong, flawless movements, but-…

“Hey.”

She quacked, jumping and inch off the ground and then whipping around to face him. He was wiping his face with a small towel hanging from his neck, looking at her with suspicion. 

“What are you doing? Daydreaming in the middle of class?”

She flushed and couldn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to look at his chest. _His lean chest in dark clingy fabric--the warm tan skin of his neck and collar flecked with sweat--toned arms leading down to strong hands resting on slim waist-…_

_Uh oh._

He sighed, aggravated. 

“Come on, Mrs. Paulemoni needs us for rehearsal.” And he turned, making his way for the door.

“Uh-um-coming!” And she toppled after him, nearly tripping on her own feet in the process.


	30. Sweet

She stared at him, making his insides twist. _Why wouldn’t she just say something?_

He felt like a fool standing there, waiting apprehensively for her reaction. _It was a stupid idea--he shouldn’t have even tried--she hated it-…_

“Well?”

Pique seemed to shake herself a little, glancing back at the package he’d shoved in her hands.

He inhaled sharply. _He was going to walk away, that was all there was too it. Just walk away-_

“It’s a first edition?” She was fingering the spin of the book, tracing the faded letters with her fingers. _Romeo and Juliet._

Autor jolted. 

“Uh, erm, y-yes!” He chastised himself for stuttering and tried to regain some scrap of his dignity. “And don’t think it was easy to find.” _Crap._ “N-not that I was avidly searching for it or anything! Women are just so ridiculously hard to shop for, and I was toted around by that obnoxious blonde and red-head before I-…”

He looked up and jumped again. She was beaming at him. 

“ _Thank you_.” Before he could find his footing, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. 

He jerked backwards clutching where her lips had touched, feeling and unsettling mix of shock and repulsion.

And a little bit of joy, but he wouldn’t admit it.


End file.
